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I hug him fiercely, and he kisses back, his face in my neck. He says Don’t cry softly and I say I’m trying not to but really, right now, I don’t know how not to. I’ve never been left before, coats in one hand, clippers in the other as the clock on the stove glows 11:54. I can’t hold in the tears that roll from my eyes unbidden, surprised.

I’m trying not to too he says and the look in his eyes tells me it’s true.

Maybe things can be better. Maybe in 6 months we’ll have worked through whatever we both have, yes both, and find ourselves again, newly happy and sated with finally speaking after years of barely trying. Maybe I’ll have cried and yelled enough by then. Maybe he’ll have had enough silence.

But, maybe we’ll just move on.

I don’t even know what to want anymore.

***

I’ve spent the weekend focused out-on him, on the kids, on the dirty floors and windows that leak air like asthmatic men at a boxing match. I do what I’m best at when I’m grieving-I get busy. I find solutions, I remind, I consult, I do whatever possible to not think about how he’s not coming home tonight, and baring a couple week long business trips I have never not had him by my side. He has always been there. And tonight he isn’t and I’m empty and crushed, aching for the one person I always figured I’d grow old with, the one I could see living forever with.

It hurts. I feel adrift, unmoored, and broken. I never wanted this.

***

What if the one your heart wants isn’t the one your heart needs?

***

We’ve spent the last week being, for the most part, gentler with each other, more considerate. He made me coffee this morning, just because I said I had a headache, and maybe a coffee would help. He smiled and listened when I talked. I bit my tongue more often than not, had a warm glance and soft touch at the ready.

If only I wondered, we could do this all the time. Be considerate of each other. Less needy but more willing. Loving yet not smothering. What if we could do this all the time?

But we don’t live under the gun of impending doom, under a cloud of Am I doing the right thing? We don’t take the time each day to look at each other and remember THIS. This giggle or that small gesture-THAT is why I love them. We haven’t taken the time in a very long time.

I believe we still love each other. I just don’t know if we have the energy to start again.

20 Responses to “When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough.”

Kiddo, this is not a mess of your making. Of course you shouldn’t try to stop loving him. Let your heart break, because that’s supposed to happen. You will survive, and you can do it by just letting stuff take its natural course. Just don’t lose track of the everyday stuff you need to do to remain healthy, and the stuff you need to do to keep the kids active and focused on the love they receive from you. This whole load is only a few days old, my suggestion is to go rent some movies the kids will like and have a few nights of general quiet. Just structure a general and simple routine you can live in for a few days.

You’ve proven to yourself you can live while dealing with some pretty bizarre happenings, including some stuff that, in its time, was much more difficult and hurtful than this situation. You’ll be able to deal with this as well, and you’ll do it in a way that will make you healthier than you were a few weeks / months /years ago. I know that because that’s how you’ve dealt with every other shit situation that’s been tossed at you.

The Mook and I had a playdate this morning with a women (and her son) that I met thru Parents W/o Partners.

Her husband walked out when her son was 2 1/2 and she was 6 months pregnant. He had a complete psychotic break-down, figured he didn’t want the responsibilities of a wife and kids and walked out. Went AWOL.

It’s 1 1/2 yrs lately and tho they don’t live together, he’s moved to just 15 minutes away from where she and the kids live now. She called him this morning when her computer broke to help her out and we all sat around while the kids played and talked.

I couldn’t believe how comfortable they were with each other and their very unique set-up and so very open about what’s happened and how they’ve re-organized and re-defined their family. He’s not often with the kids solo and he’s not as close to the baby as he is their 4-yr old son. But they make it work. He’s had the time to focus on his wellness and adjusting to medication.

I have a point. Really…

I think that, if the Former Mr had taken my advice and moved out when I asked, we may have had a better chance to recover our marriage, or at least have a better relationship now.

Take some time to take care of yourself. Spoil yourself even. Take time out to grieve (something that my friend did when her husband first left, with the goal of ‘getting it out of the way’ before the baby was born). You have a long history together and you’ll continue to make history as you parent together. Just be gentle with yourself, no matter how this turns out.

It’s been hard to watch you go through this because I remember similar feelings. Steve and I broke up back in 04 and that was hard. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But we did manage to get back together in 2005 and we’ve been better ever since. Whatever happens, you will make it, but this phase is so damn hard. It was hard for me and we didn’t have a 12-year marriage to break up, only 4 and a half years together and 2 and a half years living together. Thinking of you.

sounds as if you are doing exactly what you need to. to offer advice seems ridiculous. just know that you are enough. As Toni Morrison said, you are your best thing. there are no crystal balls ( damn it) only the path we are walking, which, with each step, leads us to where we will be. it sounds like you – maybe both of you, but who am I to say – are taking the right steps. however heart bruising they feel. take care Thordora & hugs & gentleness to you